


Two By Two By Two

by lazaefair



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Multi, Oral Sex, Public Sex (sort of), Standing watch for each other, Voyeurism, just a lot of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8844430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazaefair/pseuds/lazaefair
Summary: They stand watch for each other, a system perfected by Rapier Squadron back in the day.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cicak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cicak/gifts).



> Originally written (in much more condensed form) for cicak's NSFW Stormpilot Fridays. Then I expanded it. Because...well...smut.

“Heyo, Rey, what’s up?”

“Mandatory meditation, you know, I have to do this for at least three hours every day.” Rey smiles guilelessly down at Jessika Pava, the perfect picture of the dutiful Jedi apprentice - classic lotus pose, monk-like robes, the works. She happens to have picked a random seven-foot-high pile of crates on the edge of the base airfield to do her meditation on, but whatever.

Jedi, man. Jess shrugs and goes on her way.

Rey waits until the pilot is a sufficient distance away before she hisses down, “Shift change is in five minutes, _hurry up,_ come on.”

“I’m - trying my best - thanks - ”

It falls to Finn to choke out the response, as Poe is incapable of speech. Finn tilts his head up, mouth slack, dark skin sheened with sweat, shoulders pressed hard against a crate, glazed eyes barely meeting hers. He looks delicious. And then there’s Poe on his knees, eyelashes fanned out over his cheekbones, hands on Finn’s hips, controlling the hypnotic slide of Finn’s cock in and out between his pursed lips.

Rey shifts slightly, pleasant heat building up between her legs. There is no passion, her ass. She’d defy any old Jedi master to witness this and feel only serenity. 

Finn’s hands suddenly disentangle from Poe’s hair and fly up to his mouth, just managing to muffle most of his shout as Poe does something with his fingers that Rey, regretfully, can’t quite see. And now Finn’s groaning low in his throat, his eyes rolling back in his head. Rey hums at the sight - and Poe flashes a grin up at her as best he can with his mouth stuffed full, the corners of his eyes crinkling. If she were on the ground with them...but she’s not, so she grins back and straightens up in time to see the first group of Resistance personnel coming off shift start trickling across the tarmac.

“Intruders at three o’clock,” she says out of the corner of her mouth, settling back into lotus position. No reply from behind her except that Finn groans louder, and she rolls her eyes a little. The barracks-bred boy ought to know how to stay quiet during sex, but, well, in his defense, Poe’s mouth does defy several known laws of the universe.

She starts up a counting song to cover up the noise, one of the little chants she made up on Jakku that serve her surprisingly well for the training exercises Master Luke assigns her. She doubts this is what he meant by meditation, but she figures she’ll make it up later. Much later.

*

“How’s my favorite hotshot medic doing, huh?”

Finn thumbs his holobook off, raises his hand to greet Snap as the other man lets himself into the mess hall. “Just taking a quick break. How’s it going?”

“Not bad. Had to skip lunch, woe is me.”

Finn nods. It’s been a while after noon, so the hall is empty except for a couple workers still banging away unseen in the kitchen, but they usually leave out a box of protein bars for stragglers. Snap’s digging through the box, talking all the while.

At least that means he won’t hear any, uh, untoward noises.

“...so I think it’s a false alarm, but Command’s going to send me out anyway. I’m leaving in a couple hours. Better load up on these babies, it’s a long haul to the Mid-Rim...”

Finn adds responses as appropriate - he’s still learning the ins and outs of the Resistance’s version of small talk, which is very different from the First Order’s - while straining his ears for anything that might give away a hint of what’s really going on behind the door he’s leaning his chair against.

When Snap finally leaves, Finn raps sharply on the door, one tap, and hisses, “Hey, the dinner crew’s about to start coming in, what’s the hold up?”

Silence, and then some scrabbling, and Poe’s hoarse voice, “Hang on, buddy, she’s almost there, just let me…” and then a particularly loud moan Finn recognizes as the noise Rey makes when she’s starting to orgasm. It cuts off abruptly, like someone’s muffled her while she comes. Like maybe she’s stuffed her hand in her mouth, or Poe’s pulled her down to kiss her while she shakes on top of him. Blood rushes into Finn’s cheeks and cock, and he shifts a bit in his chair. 

More silence, and then: “Your turn.” Rey says this in a low voice, but it’s just barely audible to Finn, with his ear practically pressed to the door. Some watchguard he’s turning out to be. 

Another gasp - it has to be Poe this time - a rustling sound, and a creak, like Rey’s settling herself more comfortably on him, and then a series of quiet, bitten-off whines from Poe, providing Finn with a convenient rhythm for imagining the rise and fall of Rey’s body, sliding up and down Poe’s cock, clenching down with delicious pressure, wringing those noises out of him. Rey with her teeth bared, her eyes locked on Poe’s heavy-lidded gaze, flushed and glorious.

If he were in there with them...but he’s not, so with a conscious effort, Finn turns his head and adjusts his posture into a carefully casual pose. He thumbs his holobook back on.

*

It’s not the most popular cove on the lake closest to the Resistance base, but it’s not secluded by any definition, either. Hence Poe, lounging comfortably against a tree near where the grassy trail opens out to the beach, bent over the massassi-wood guitar in his lap, taking the opportunity to practice.

That’s what he told Finn and Rey he’d be doing, anyway. With a sufficient number of exaggerated winks and nudges and eyebrow waggles to make Finn break into a fit of giggles and Rey roll her eyes hard enough to move her entire head, while she bodily pushed Poe off the picnic blanket.

“Get going, watchguard,” she said, already stripping off her tunic.

“I hear and obey, your highness,” he returned with a mock salute (she stuck her tongue out at him), then strolled up the hill towards the forest until he found a likely-looking tree at a likely-looking vantage point. He runs his fingers over silk and durasteel strings now, pulling out a pretty chord, humming the opening of a Yavinese folk song under his breath.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Rey’s limbs move and unfold, opening like pale orchid petals against the dark beach sands. Finn’s on all fours above her, his skin gleaming with protective sun oil. They’re both naked as belly-birds, unselfconscious about it. Rey tips her head back and laughs, high and clear above the soft susurrus of waves on the beach.

When the laughter subsides into gasps that he can’t hear but he can very well imagine, Poe takes a deep breath and starts the song. It’s an easy groove for his fingers to follow while he pulls the lyrics out of the depths of his memory. _Voy cantarles un corrido muy mentado,_ it goes, _I will sing to you a famous ballad._

_lo que ha pasado allá en la Hacienda de la Flor_  
_la triste historia de un ranchero enamorado_  
_que fue borracho, parrandero y jugador_

By the time the balladic hero dashes out of the cantina with blaster in hand - having drunk, seduced and gambled his way into trouble - Finn has made his way down Rey’s body and intends to take his sweet time eating her out, to judge by the way Rey’s back bows and head keeps rolling side to side. She’s taken her hair down and it spreads out across the blanket in a wild mess, framing her face, drawing Poe’s eyes to her mouth, open and inviting. 

_Les gritaba estoy borracho y soy buen gallo, cuando un desintegrador atravesó su corazón,_ the song runs on, _‘I may be drunk, but I'm a brave man!’ he shouted, when a blaster bolt pierced his heart._

And so the corn grows and the doves fly up the mountain, the faithful bury the dead man, and his mother mourns him. It takes to the end of the song for Rey to start coming, her torso undulating and legs spreading wide, her neck arching. She’s got her hands in Finn’s hair, holding his head down between her legs. Poe smiles nostalgically.

If he were down there on the beach with them...but he’s not, so he finishes the ballad with an elaborately flourished chord - _y fue borracho, parrandero y jugador!_ \- then modulates it into something more formless, snagging random notes in a wandering melody line intended to go on indefinitely. When he glances back, they’ve changed positions. Finn’s on his back and Rey’s kneeling over his face. She’s turned towards the lake and away from Poe, but he can see the tension in the curve of her spine even from up the hill. 

There’s a cool breeze coming off the water. It’ll no doubt be stroking over Rey’s overheated skin, tightening her nipples, sending sparks through her while Finn licks his way across her cunt, sucks on her clit, sinks a couple fingers inside her. Poe swallows, the melody stuttering, as his imagination too-readily supplies the vivid images of what he’d be doing if he were in Finn’s position. He wets his lips and makes himself watch the forest trail, which is still thankfully free of anybody else looking for an afternoon at the lake, and starts up another song.

_The birds are singing_  
_In your eyes today_  
_The flowers blooming in your smile_  
_The wind and sun_  
_Are in the words you say;_  
_Where might your lonesome lover be?_

Halfway through the second verse, Rey cries out in counterpoint to the harmony line, moaning loud enough for the sound to drift across the beach. She’s on her hands and knees, grinding down on Finn’s face, hair swaying freely in the breeze, her entire body contracting with the intensity of her orgasm. Sweet kriffing Force. Poe lets the lyrics trail away - something about his heart on a ship at sea - and watches unashamedly. There are still moments where he can’t believe he’s allowed to have this.

When they’re finally done, Poe’s gone through what feels like a small anthology of ballads, which was no small feat considering that Rey - and then later, Finn - had eventually started vocalizing enough to be audible over the music. 

“You know, the point of this,” he holds up his guitar when he rejoins them on the beach, “was to make sure anybody coming down that path wouldn’t realize what was happening long before they actually saw it. Which they would have. Because you were _loud._ Like, really loud.”

Finn flaps a hand at him, at ease in his lightly glistening shirtlessness even as Poe’s eyes wander over the smoothness of his chest with somewhat less than professional appreciation. 

Rey, for her part, sticks her tongue out. “Stop complaining, nobody showed up and nothing happened. Besides,” she says with a smile that sends an involuntary shiver down Poe’s spine, “you’re next.”


End file.
